It frustrates me that I’m sitting here,
Staring at a blank page.
For I feel so much.
And I have so much to write,
On this empty page.
I have seen enough to write an endless novel.
So why is my page empty?
Not full of wooded trails.
Or life's many tales.
Not even the sympathies,
Of my many brothers,
And many sisters.
My page is empty,
Alas, the poet’s dying shame.

Those who are born in night,
Fear the sun.
Those who are born in light,
Fear the sin.
Though, I fear them both,
For I was born amongst the twilight.

Another night I'm wasting,
According to the billionaire news letter,
Bowling with CL and JR.
A sleek new bowler's cap,
A broken in pair of bowling shoes,
I found while thrifting.
JR made a joke,
"They look like Al Capone's lost shoes."
And I guess they do,
So whether I dress like an English bartender,
Or an Italian mob boss.
That's up to you to judge,
Because I'm wearing my new bowler's cap,
My all American pool shirt,
And Al Capone's lost shoes.

You're my fault,
The product of my imagination,
Everything in life I wanted,
Everyone I wanted to live in stagnation,
I'd rather live in my anger,
Then let it live in me,
And if the meds aren't in my head,
It's all the broken images of what I wanted life to be.

I walked in the evening,
Throughout the widow's woods.
Following the rabbling brooks,
Down to the lonesome cliff spire.
On the edge I spied a man,
A ruffled suit, head in his hands.
Slowly, I approached him,
And sat by his sorrow.
'For what are you here sir,
For why have you come to shed tears over the edge,
Straight to the rocky jaws of the gorge's floor?'
He raised his head from it's rest,
Turned it to look at I.
'My friend I have come for death,
His sweet relief and eternal rest.'
Widened did my eyes,
'But friend, it is not your time,
I see a pool of youth still in this eye which you gaze with.'
He sighed, looked back to the edge,
'Your eyes lie to you my friend,
My years of youth are gone,
But before I go take this letter,
I want not my last thoughts to go o'er these falls.'
So I did, then once it laid safe in my hands, I left,
And so did the man,
But left not to his home,
But to the end.

'Ciao'
'Salve!'
'Un caffe con latte per favore.'
'Un cornetto?'
'No, un caffe con latte.'
'Ah, un gelato!'
'No! Un caffe con latte!'
'Latte con zuchero?'
'Why you idiot! I'm asking for a coffee!'
'Scusa?'
'...'

Don't cage me,
Don't chain me,
Don't try and change me,
I am the river,
I am free.

So you can't control me,
You can know me,
But you'll never own me.

Here comes the camera girl,
Clumsy American beauty!
With a French hat placed upon her head lazily,
And her camera hanging from her neck.
Looking around the streets,
Photographing Paris, a way to live through scenes.

But she'll never be happy,
Just watching the people,
Who dance by the Eiffel Tower.
No, she must dance!
But alas, she has no man with which to dance,
How sad.

Blank canvas,
Is still creative.
Because the fact is,
You can only paint an original blank painting,
Once.

Edward Carnegie was once a normal man,
Steel monopolist extraordinaire.
Till a fateful dip in rail stock,
Lead to his discovery of time travel.
Confused, he landed just a few years from the modern day,
Where he was arrested by the Time Police.
"Edward, we'll set you free,
If you defeat public time enemy,
The Alien."
So off went Carnegie to the modern day,
To face off against fellow PTE.
But what was revealed,
Shocked even the Time Police.
His business partner, Henry Frick,
Was the real villain all along.
"Buckle up, we're going back in time!"
Back to the time of steel money,
Frick had almost bested Carnegie.
"The company is mine Edward, stand down!"
Though undenounced to Henry,
His advisory had pumped his veins full,
Of the Blood Of Steel.

The first time around,
We didn't plan,
We talked in tomorrows,
Because we knew it would end.

Yet on our second go,
We planned it all out,
Now we talk in years,
Because I only have to wait seven more,
Before I can put a ring on your pretty finger,
Though for now that's fantasy.

We're two different people,
But in similar ways.

We both like chewing gum,
A pack in our pocket at all times.
But mine's watermelon,
Yours is nicotine.

Wake up in the morning,
Grab my cap, tie my shoes,
Get in the car, can't wait to see you.
<3
Get dropped off,
Walk into the school,
Wait in the cafeteria for you!
<3<3
Wish you didn't forget your hoodie,
Grab mine, I don't need it,
Get some breakfast and go, I love you so.
<3<3<3

Soft snow falling,
Kissing the white tops of the trees.
It'll be a white Christmas this year,
First one my baby cousin will ever see.
His sleepy eyes and rosy nose,
Does he know that his joy will simply grow,
When Saint Nickolas completes his flight?
No I doubt he'd know that tonight is the night,
Of the birth of Jesus Christ.

No, but he will learn,
All in time as bed hours turn.
A yawn catches me drifting off,
As I sip my spiced cider and listen to the Christian hymns.
Staring into the golden lights of Grandmother's "Angel Tree,"
I often wonder, did baby Jesus know, he was sent by God,
To save our souls?
Or did he find his light along the way?

I'd ask the pastor,
But tonight the church is quiet.
Waiting for Christmas Mass tomorrow,
While young children are tucked into bed,
Drifting dreams of presents fighting the will to wait up for Saint Nick.

And as the candles fade,
I figure it is my time as well.
To turn to bed,
And await the sleigh of Santa Claus.
This Christmas though,
He will not be able to bring me what I want.
Unless, I could catch a ride,
On his magic flight.
Visit the ocean,
And sing "White Christmas," with you one more time.

But matter not what I long for,
I will slip away to sleep eventually.
'Merry Christmas to all,
And to all, a good night.'

I signed up for Duolingo again,
So when I grow old,
And I am weary of this mortal country,
I may take my aching bones,
To old Italy.
Where I will have coffee,
And read paper news,
That way the old game can't bother me.

You, you're my one and only,
Without you I'd be a little lonely.
Nope I lied,
If I were to lose you,
I'd lose myself and they'd have to gather tools to fix my heart.
And while the ocean is wide,
I need you to be my bright side.
In fact it's starting to seem that you're the ink in my pen,
Your tears of sadness and joy.
Staring into your eyes,
I freeze like a toy.
I'm just a boy,
And you're my classroom crush.

A fateful night,
I was restless,
Sleep fleeting my young eyes.
So I rose from bed,
And to my desk I sat.
My pen curled in my fingers,
I wrote.
I wrote of a girl,
Made of spare paper,
And discarded ink.
But never did I guess,
My writing would come true.
Yet come next morning before me lay,
A paper girl with inky eyes.

If you'll come with me,
I can bring you to the sea,
Show you the waves as they dance to the sand,
Wander through the dunes,
Winding like the winds in beach birch branches,
We can live like they do on TV,
Swear our hearts to each other,
Like I got down on my one knee.

Almost to 50,
Just about half-way more.
I need a mass of poets,
Poets galore.
So to the new poets who've just joined,
We need your help,
Have you considered 300?

No bed is mine,
If I lay not with her.
There is no home for me,
If I cannot hold her, gazing into the sea.
I am citizen to no country,
Unless it is the territory of her lips.

I'm a big target,
I don't fit the mold.

Does the fact I'm self contempt,
Scare you and your self admired stature?

Just because you will give confidence for popularity,
Doesn't mean I have to.

So move on,
I won't grieve myself due to you.

Je suis dans amour.
Mon amoureuse est brillant,
C’est juste nous.
Tout ce que je sais c’est elle.
C’est gentil,
Tu m’as apporté des fleurs!
J’ai juré,
Mais j’ai glissé,
Maintenant je tombe à nouveau.
Je suis amoureux.

I went off to the capital,
For a weekend with friends.
My mother told me,
"Take lots of pictures!"

Well mother, I'm afraid,
My camera can only capture so much.
Because there was no way for me,
To photograph everything.
No, I do not mean stone statues and monuments,
I'm talking about feeling.
A piece of film can't show,
Every shining memory of everything you did.
Midnight conversations,
Dinner debates,
Writing in graveyards,
Buying hats.

Often times those of us that disturb peace,
Are making up for the lack of our own.

I used to look upon the scarred and hurt,
With disgust.
The world had taught me,
There was no place for those who can't defend themselves.

You need no excuse to stand and fight,
Let us defend the scared,

To make up for every little sin.

In the dark I find myself empty,
Devoid of thought.

Devoid of feeling,
Reaching for something,
Grasping for anything.

Devoid of peace,
Hoping this feeling will pass on from me.

I didn't make the cut again,
I guess that makes sense.
I don't look like the characters from the original film,
I'm not blond a skinny like the prince,
I'm not built and burly like the craftsman.
I'm not pudgy like the shopkeeper,
Nor am I silent like the king

But I can act,
I know I can.
Because everyday I act happy,
Wake up and do it again.
I act confident when I'm up on stage,
But maybe they couldn't see it,
After all, I hide it so well.

Did they call for you,
When you were low,
When you knew the dirt of ground?

No?
Then don't you dare answer in your house of gold,
They will only come to burn it down.

Did you know I was falling down?
Or did you just want to watch me drown,
Dipping farther into the water,
Shivering as the cold came up farther.
Every single time you wished me luck,
You pushed me ten steps out,
Now I'm too far from shore to see.

A fact is a non-arguable statement,
But a statement is defined fact,
Through observations and experimentation.

Today a fact was patented,
By the college of my love for you,
The fact is; You are beautiful, that is it.

I waited for hours in an office lobby,
Just for them to tell me there was no cure for what I was suffering.
I walked a mile,
In another man’s shoes.
So I walked to  another,
To the next doctor,
Just to be told again, that there was no cure.

Wendy; My shadow is too heavy, can you fix it?
Doctor; Shadows don’t weigh anything.
Wendy; Mine does.
And it’s getting bigger.

I waited again,
Yet still the answer was the same.
That there was no cure,
For the sad music I hear in my ear,
That makes me age hundreds of years.
It makes it seem like my mind is run by rusted gears,
It must be from storing the salt for my tears.

Mother; I thought you were sleeping.
Wendy: I was being sad.
…
Wendy; I’m not always sad.

I didn’t go to another office,
I ran out of ones to walk to.
Running is a concept I never understood,
Why are you always running from, or to?
Why can’t I just run,
Away from nothing, for I have nothing to run from.
To nothing, because I have no more things to run to.

Detective; Can you fly?
Wendy; I could,
I don’t think I can anymore.
Detective; That sounds dangerous.
Wendy; It is.
Was
Detective; What can you tell me about him?

Why can’t they make a medicine,
That makes you forget?
I don’t mean alcohol,
I just asked to forget, not to destroy the place in my mind where the memory was.
Why can’t they make a syrup,
It could taste like peppermint.
That you take at night,
And wake up and forget.

Wendy; I asked you to stay.
Peter; Did you?

Well I c-n't
Type with the letter "-"
My puppy fell -sleep on it
So it might t-ke me
- minute to s-y I luv you too
Bec-use his n-se is n-w -n the "-"

Do not tread here,
Not on this land.
These grasses hide graves,
This dirt is a death-land.
If you must walk this desolate space,
Step carefully, travel light.
If you're not nimble,
This journey may be your last.
Adding another body,
To this grim grass.

Don’t reconcile with a rebel,
If you’re scared to run with rebellion.

Don’t you try and cook,
If you’re scared of being burnt.

The trampling feet of warriors,
And the licking flames of devotion,
Will cast your foolish soul to the ocean.

When I was young,
I believed they were 'Morning Doves.'
That they would fly down in the night,
To rest on my lawn.

Now that I'm older,
I know they're called 'Mourning Doves.'
That they were named after their haunting song,
Of all Earth's sorrows and plight.

I had a dream,
20 years had passed,
You and I had grown older.
Fate had taken a cruel twist on me,
I had to sail away,
Move to the city of Paris.
I wrote you letters,
You wrote them back,
But the ink was laced with tears.
I found a job selling newspapers,
My dream of writing crushed.
You went to work in hairdressing,
For not nearly enough pay.
I saved up each paycheck,
Worked to the bone each day.
I purchased you a plane ticket,
Flew you out to France.
We were happy once again,
Love knows no bounds.

Life wanders,
Winding like the waters.
An ocean word,
Sunshine on the waves.
Yet still nothing to compare,
To the shine in your eyes.
It's all dreams,
Wishes that came true.
Because when we kiss,
You say 'I love you.'

Did I bite off more than I could chew,
Running through this life with you?
No, it was the perfect taste,
A sample of the wines of youth.
Yet I sorrow in it's beauty,
For as I drink I become more thirsty.
Till all I wish to taste,
Is that flavor that is you.
So I apologize if I am hasty,
But I am addicted and craving,
Your drink is far too tasty.

Looking over the canyon,
Grand and conniving,
A grim smile across the broken earth.

My voices echoes from it's bounds,
Without the faithful demeanor from which it came.
It calls back to me in the gambit of hatred,
'Shall you let evil rise again, or will you ***** your hand to end it.'

Tree leaves are green,
With bark brown like cigar paper.
Or at least they were,
Back in the 1920's.

Oh boy it's hot in here!
The planet is starting to sizzle,
Quick, ban gas!
Better ride my bicycle to places now.

We the people,
Might be *******.
Maybe we can be saved,
If we give our money up to Musk,
Electric cars are going to save the planet!
Well we're gonna need more fuel than that,
To ***** wind turbines to replace coal furnaces.

My head is empty,
I think there's a hole,
Because every time I fill it up,
It all seems to go.
Did my inspirations take a walk,
Is my talent wandering?
Where are my thoughts,
One empty head,
That's all I've got.

Before you left,
I was a paradise,
A magical land of prosper and beauty.
When you left,
The rains stopped coming,
All the magic dried up to sandstone.
Then you came back,
With a river running wide,
Eroding the armored stone of my heart.

Nobody likes a winer,
But they all like wine.
Unfortunately every sip,
Brings out one more complaint,
Till I'm sitting with a bunch of hypocrites.

There is a face in the mist,
One that belongs not to me,
And it stares into my eyes,
Knowingly.
Tell me what you know!
For what have you come?
Why do you reach across the mists,
And stare?

Faith is a torch I must carry,
I won't let the beliefs it taught us fade away.
Brotherhood, loyalty, bravery,
I pray so we don't meet the day,
God is replaced with a robot.